Death and The Spider

Even near the beginning I always found myself by the end. I was once again in that endless garden, my head laying on top the cool lap of a familiar weird lady. I must've been dreaming. Or that's what I thought. The weird lady would often explain that I wasn't dreaming but instead having visions. I wasn't sure what the difference was though. I looked up at the lady's face as she softly patted my hair, her cold and pasty white hands making me shiver with her touch.

She smiled.

She was unnaturally pretty but her gaze felt eerie, her black eyes dark as the fridged depths of space. She wasn't black but I thought she was some sort of Egyptian person at first, because of her makeup and the silver necklace she wore around her neck. An ankh she called it.

I frowned.

Who was this woman, that I had met with my entire life? Every since I could remember she had come to visit in this place, in this endless field that stretched on forever. She would often talk to me about my life. Ask me how I was doing. Help me with my problems. Why did I keep forgetting her name? I sighed for a moment before sitting up so I could back away from her, to create some space.

The weird lady narrowed her eyes for a moment. Her expression softened. "Such a deep sigh from someone so young."

"…What do you mean?"

She was silent for a moment. A crisp breeze ruffled tall grass and trees in the field close by, the lady's cloak fluttered in the wind. I squinted for a moment due to the pressure. As the gust of air past, she fixed me with a searching look.

"It's… a bit to early for you to come to this place."

I shrugged. "I don't even know where 'this place' is."

The woman smirked. "Nonsense. How can you not know of the place you've been reaching for, ever since you've been born?"

Again with the confusing questions. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You will see."

"Are you ever going to tell me your name? If you're gonna haunt my dreams like the boogeyman I should at least know who you are."

The woman paused, taken aback. She lifted a hand from underneath her cloak to cover her mouth. I felt the heat rush to my face when I realized she was laughing at me.

"Boy, how could you forget my name?" she demanded. "After all the time we spend together…"

My brain froze at her accusation. "I-I—"

"Relax." She raised a hand causing me to stop. "I was kidding. I don't think I don't think I've mentioned it you." She placed her hand under her chin, giving me a pensive glance. A faint smile formed on her lips. "Most call me Death."

"Death?"…What? "Wait… that's your name? Serious?"

"Very," Death said, her eyes sharp. She paused. "It's not often that I get to a break and visit places like this," she mused. "That's why I take my time here and talk with you." Death looked around the meadow glancing up toward the deep blue sky in a far of direction.

My gaze followed, curious to know what she was looking at. I didn't see anything in the distance though.

"This time we're going to have to cut our meeting a bit short," she said, facing me. "It's time for you to—"

-/-

"—Wake up!" My mother's voiced hissed in my ear. "Are you sleeping? I can't believe this."

I flinched and my eyes opened, a sharp pain in my arm jolting me awake. Mom was pinching me.

"I'm up—I'm up!" I complained, pulling away from her.

She was pissed. "I cannot believe this. You have a chance to be selected for the best school in this city and you're dosing off?"

I shook my head, getting my bearings and then looked up toward the stage in front. We were sitting with other families in an auditorium. My dad on one side, my mom on the other. Oh. Now I remembered where I was. This was the lottery thing for the new school that was built. Brooklyn Visions Academy, it was called. Weirdly enough the raffle took place at a different middle school altogether.

The auditorium was full of people. Hundreds of kids waiting nervously in anticipation with their parents hoping to get in. Unfortunately, there were only a few spots left. Most wouldn't make it.

"You tired there bud?" my dad asked, cleaning his glasses with the bottom of his shirt. He put them back on.

My mom folded her arms. "Probably spent all night playing that DS." She angled herself so she could face me. "I thought I told you to go to bed on time."

"Cut the kid some slack. He's just bored. Like his old man here."

"Jeff! This is important."

"What's important is getting out of here on time."

I groaned internally, worried that my parents would get into a little spat but before they could continue, the announcer from the stage spoke mentioning that only three more spots were left.

The announcer took a ball from lottery machine and presumably looked at the number on it before heading to the podium, a microphone in hand. She read a name of a sheet of paper.

"The next name is Barbara Rodriguez, that's Barbara Rodriguez—"

"Yes! Oh my god! Yes!" A large Hispanic woman a few seats behind us stood up shouting for joy as her daughter won the third to last spot. The girl was sitting next to her mom while covering her face, mortified.

Dad made a sound of annoyance, he turned his head a little to look back with the corner of an eye "And the crazies are out."

"Jefferson stop," Mom said, defiant.

"This is insane. We should go."

"The next name," The announcer said, "is Kate Bishop."

I looked around to see if her family was here. No reaction this time.

Dad leaned back in his chair, resigned. "Waste of a day."

"Jefferson!"

The announcer again made her way to the podium. "The final winner of the Brooklyn Visions Academy lottery is…" As she started to read from the paper time stopped, it felt like an eternity as the auditorium was dead silent. Couldn't hear a peep. "…Miles Morales."

Dad whistled with a smile. "Get out of town."

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I made it. Mom engulfed me in a tight hug, squeezing her face with mine.

"…Mom," I complained.

"Oh my god. I can't believe this. I cannot believe this," she whispered.

I kept myself from rolling my eyes. I wasn't in the mood to get popped again.

"You—you have a chance now. Everything is finally coming together…Oh god, I can't believe it, it's happening!"

Glancing at some of the faces of the other kids that were seated by us, I wasn't so sure. One girl was even crying.

"Should it be like this?" I asked. "It shouldn't—all the other kids…"

"Hey. Hey." Mom pushed my face up with her hands so I could look her in the eye. "Don't worry about that. That's something that you have no control over. Just focus on you."

As my mom let go I glanced at my dad.

"You get to pick dinner, kid," he said.

-/-

"Uncle Aaron, it's Miles!" I called while knocking on his apartment door. I knew Uncle like it quiet, but since the complex seemed like a ghost town today, I didn't feel so bad about yelling.

I could hear him groan through the door. "What did I tell you about making all that racket, boy? Hold on, I'll be there in a sec."

As he opened the door I was greeted with his signature smile, he looked pretty relaxed wearing a sports coat with gym shorts and sandals. He had a hat on too. I wasn't sure why he always needed to have on a fancy hat, especially inside.

He pointed at me with style. "There he is! My man."

"Hey, uncle."

"Get in here, boy."

Obliged, I followed him into his modest apartment, taking a seat on the dark sofa in the middle of the living room.

Uncle Aaron followed suit. "How's the mom?"

"Good. She's happy I got into that charter school. The new one."

Uncle seemed surprised. "Hey now, that's what I'm talking about. That's good news, little man."

I hummed looking down. "I didn't really do anything. It was just a lottery thing."

"That's not the way to look at it, Miles. Look, you got a ticket out of this cesspool. A chance to make your own way. Me and your dad? We didn't have that chance."

"You guys are fine now."

"Nuh-uh, listen. We had to fight. Boys shouldn't have had the fight the way we did. See the things we did. You stay in school, study and learn. Go to a good college, get out of here and go see the world… do whatever you wanna do." Uncle Aaron looked at me with intent, motioning with his hands to get across his point. "You get out of here and make the world the way you want it to be, not how it is. You make it, don't let others make it for you."

I nodded.

"Good." Uncle Aaron stood up and headed for the kitchen. "We should celebrate. How 'bout some popsicles?"

"Sure."

Uncle Aaron rummaged through the freezer before bring back two red-white-blue popsicles in hand. He gave me one and I eagerly started to lick.

"That school, your dad can pay for it?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Uncle Aaron chuckled. "'Think so.' Hey, if it starts to fall apart, tell me immediately. Don't tell your mom to tell me. You come here and tell me."

"She wouldn't take your money, she doesn't even want me coming here."

Uncle Aaron shrugged. "We'll deal with that another day then. Here's the remote." Uncle handed me the remote to his flatscreen TV. "Chill for a minute. I'll be right back."

Uncle Aaron went to his bedroom while I struggled thinking about what to watch. Was there any good cartoons on? Something on the table in front of me caught my eye. It was a small box, an alluring red metal that shined.

"Uncle, what's this box on your table?"

"Uh—what?" He asked from his room.

I inspected the box further. "The red box you have in here, what is it? I can't open it."

"Hey—put that down! Miles, what did I tell you about messing with stuff?"

"I mean—it was just here." I placed the box back on the table and sat back down. I turned on the television and took another bite of my popsicle. I felt something weird on the skin, glancing at my free hand on the couch, my heart stopped as a huge spider with a number on its back crawled on my fingers. I stiffened as the spider bit down. I shouted and jumped shaking the arachnid of as a searing burning pain ran through my arm.

My body started to shake, my muscles locked up and I fell to the ground. Pain. Pain everywhere. I felt like I was being poked by a ton of needles or stung by thousands of bees. The tendons in my muscles felt like they were being ripped apart. My skin—it burned—it was falling off, it had to be. I was being flayed alive.

"Miles!"

I could hear my uncle calling my name, but I couldn't see him.

"What the hell happened?"

Everything was blurry, my vision faded into black.

-/-

"My, my," Death said. "I thought I told you that it's to bit too early for you to come to this place."